


everlasting arms

by queenlannister



Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, OFC - Freeform, Steve works at the museum, go with it tbh, how can i include bisexual steve rogers this time, modern day AU, number one otp, this has no plot yet but i promise soon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-23
Updated: 2014-08-29
Packaged: 2018-02-14 08:24:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2184705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenlannister/pseuds/queenlannister
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Do you like this piece? I imagine you’ve had time to look over it.”</p>
<p>“Oh, yeah. I mean, it might get a little repetitive seeing the same thing every day but it really is a nice piece.”</p>
<p>Truly, if anyone else had asked him he might’ve shrugged or just said it was okay, but she seemed like she deserved a complete answer. He was pleased when her lips stretched into a grin. </p>
<p>“I quite like it too. Third floor, South Wing, was it?” </p>
<p>“Sounds about right,” he said, giving her a wide smile. She was lovely, with high cheekbones and bright eyes. Even when she wasn’t smiling, her face held a sort of mild amusement in the way she regarded him. She gave him a curt nod and thanks before leaving to go find the piece, and Steve lay back against the wall again. Upon closing his eyes, he found her face was ingrained on the back of his eyelids.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this was originally going to be steve/bucky but i'm having a lot of peggy related emotions so...sorry. i promise the plot will come eventually? also this has no beta so please please please shoot me a message if you're willing to work with me.

“Sir, please, step away from the art.”

It was another Saturday afternoon working at the MoMA for art history major Steve Rogers, and by now the crowd was overeager tourists or ridiculously dressed pseudo-artists who wore all black and carried Moleskines. At the beginning of the summer, the internship seemed like a great idea. What fool wouldn’t take an internship at the Museum of Modern Art, paid or unpaid? But as the summer progressed and the days got hotter and the tourists came in larger droves, he was getting tired of it. Occasionally they would have him cover a shift for someone at one of the special exhibitions, but for the most part he had to hang by one of the works in the first floor, nagging people to not touch the art and to not run. 

The man he had been berating stepped back quickly, throwing his hands up. Steve leaned against the wall, tired from being on his feet all day. After a quick glance at his watch, determining he had less than an hour and a half to go, he let himself check his phone and pray that his supervisors were nowhere to be seen. He had one text from his roommate Bucky, asking if he was going to be home in time to split a bowl of pasta, but that was already an hour ago and Steve assumed his silence was answer enough. It had been a long four weeks of working and he still had two to go, by which time he might be so tired he could sink into his bed and disappear to Wisconsin or Georgia.

He loved New York, in all honestly. The buildings and the people and the bustling crowds, but this summer had been so honestly exhausting for him. He was waking up early to get to work and so much more often than not staying late, so that when he got home it was mostly already dark. And when he was trying to get to sleep early, Bucky would inevitably have some girl over, or the traffic outside would be unbearably loud and he would give up on trying to catch some sleep. It didn’t help that Bucky would sometimes insist on having him go out too, because whatever girl he had asked out at the time refused to go out without her best friend. All of the girls he had met that summer were exactly the same: same vapid personality, with button noses and an affinity for kale he really didn’t get. So maybe a semester abroad or just somewhere else would be a well needed change, something to make him appreciate the homeliness of his city again. 

The sounds of heels on the floor startled him, and he stood up straight and made himself look alert. A pretty brunette walked into the room, eyeing the installation with careful eyes. Most people passing through this room never stayed too long, but she seemed particularly curious about this piece and stood in front of it, one hip cocked out and lips slightly parted in appreciation. 

“Excuse me,” she said, and her voice was loud and clear, her crisp accent ringing out. “Might you have anything else by this artist?”

“Uh, I think we do. Try the third floor, South Wing.”

For some reason, Steve’s ears were burning up, and he pretended to be scratching one in order to dissimulate the fact. 

“Do you like this piece? I imagine you’ve had time to look over it.”

“Oh, yeah. I mean, it might get a little repetitive seeing the same thing every day but it really is a nice piece.”

Truly, if anyone else had asked him he might’ve shrugged or just said it was okay, but she seemed like she deserved a complete answer. He was pleased when her lips stretched into a grin. 

“I quite like it too. Third floor, South Wing, was it?” 

“Sounds about right,” he said, giving her a wide smile. She was lovely, with high cheekbones and bright eyes. Even when she wasn’t smiling, her face held a sort of mild amusement in the way she regarded him. She gave him a curt nod and thanks before leaving to go find the piece, and Steve lay back against the wall again. Upon closing his eyes, he found her face was ingrained on the back of his eyelids. 

***

The next day, Steve was back in the same room, leaning against the same walls and chiding the same type of people. He kept thinking about that lovely woman that had passed through the hall yesterday, asking about the art. He really hoped she would pass through the museum again sometime, or that he would see her in his daily commute through the subway. She had been captivating in the five minutes she had existed in his life, and now he couldn’t stop wondering about her: what were her hobbies, her interests; where she lived, what she worked as, how often she asked flustered museum employees about their opinions on works. It was two days before he managed to shake the thoughts out of his head, coming to the conclusion that she was probably just a tourist who would never pass through the MoMA again (at least while he was still working there). It really was a shame; she had seemed so interesting it ached, and he had replayed the moment in his head incessantly to get through the workday. 

When he got off at around five, he had a missed call from Bucky. As he took his wallet from his locker, he dialed him back, receiving a response almost immediately. 

“Steve! Hey, do you have anything to do tonight?”

“Me? Not at all. Why?”

“Well, I met this girl at Dunkin Donuts today. She was a perfect ten, I swear. But her best friend is visiting and she doesn’t want to be a bad hostess and leave her alone, so I need you to keep her entertained for a while?”  
Steve rolled his eyes. Of course. “Yeah, that’s fine, I guess. What time?”

“I said eight. I might be able to push it back if you don’t think you’ll make it home in time.”

“No, I’ll be there. Don’t worry.”

“Perfect. Thanks, Steve.”

***

“Okay, so Hayley’s meeting us here soon with her friend. I’m taking her to dinner, you can do whatever with her friend, so long as it keeps you guys busy until midnight. Then we rendezvous back here.”

Steve nodded. He had planned on taking the girl to eat at some pasta place, and maybe for some drinks afterwards. He hoped she was a better conversationalist than the girls Bucky had set him up with this summer, not that he wouldn’t help out Bucky and dutifully take them out anyway. 

They were waiting in front of their apartment building with their hands in their pockets, in almost twin poses. Steve was waiting for Bucky’s cue to finally see the girls, and in the multitude that was passing through the sidewalk he wasn’t entirely sure how Bucky hoped to recognize them. 

“That’s her back there, in the green skirt. And that’s her friend, I assume,” Bucky pointed out. They walked down the stairs and stopped in front of the gate as they waited for the girls to come closer. Once they were within clear view, Bucky raised an arm to signal for them. As they walked towards them, Steve’s heart almost stopped. 

“Hi, Bucky!”

“Hello there, Hayley. Mind introducing your friend?”

Hayley tore her eyes away from Bucky, turning to Steve and the girl. “This is my friend, Peggy. We met while I was studying abroad in London. Now, Bucky, should we get going?” she said, linking her arm to Bucky’s.

“Definitely. See you guys later,” Bucky said, and just like that they had walked into the crowd.

Steve gave Peggy a bashful smile, quietly admiring her figure in her stunning blue dress. “Well then. Long time no see, huh? Did you ever find that piece in the South Wing?”


	2. Chapter 2

“I did, but I do have one complaint. You led me to the South Wing but it was actually in the East Wing. All that walking for nothing.”

“I could’ve sworn it was the South Wing, I’m so sorry!”

Peggy gave him a playful nudge. “It’s fine, you don’t have to apologize. Gosh, you’re getting all red.”

Steve gave her an awkward laugh, not quite sure how to respond. 

“Anyway, I still haven’t gotten to put a name to the face.”

“Sorry, um, I’m Steve Rogers. Nice to meet you.”

“Oh, quit apologizing, Steve. Now, where are you taking me?” she asked, her expression somewhat amused at how gawky Steve was acting. He felt like she was taking all of him in, with that expression of curiosity and amusement she always carried. 

“Dinner and drinks, if that’s fine with you,” he said. And he meant it; it’d be just as well if she wanted to sit down on his porch with a couple of beers or if she asked him to take her to some gala in Manhattan. Peggy seemed like a very no nonsense person, and Steve didn’t want to waste the one in a million chance of going out on a date with the girl he had spent the past four days thinking of. 

“Dinner and drinks, hm?” she said, more to herself than to him. “Sounds perfect.”

Steve gave her his arm, and she latched onto it gratefully. 

“Lead the way, Rogers.”

***

They were back at Steve and Bucky’s apartment at five past midnight, with Bucky and Hayley nowhere in sight. Steve really didn’t want to leave Peggy, much less at this hour in Brooklyn when he wasn’t entirely sure she knew how to get back to where she was staying, so he used the opportunity to invite her back in. 

“Well, this is my place,” he said, flicking on the lights. “Sorry for the mess.”

“It’s quite alright, Steve.”

“Um, you can sit there,” Steve said, pointing to the table he and Bucky mostly used as a storage place for bills rather than for having meals. She shook her head, putting her purse down. 

“I’m fine. I doubt Hayley would take too much longer.”

“Well, with Bucky, who knows how long they’ll take. He’s big on spontaneity.”

She gave him a quick smile, meeting his eyes, but quickly went back to looking down at her shoes. The silence between them was unbearably large, and Steve was already reciting all his regrets mentally. _I shouldn’t have put my hand on her waist walking back; I shouldn’t have insisted on paying everything; I shouldn’t have made that dumbass joke about how she probably had tea with every meal._ But as he was engaging in self-deprecation, as was the norm whenever he found a girl he actually liked, he failed to notice Peggy closing the distance between them and tilting her head up. 

“What about you? How are you with spontaneity?”

“W-what?”

She shut him up by catching his lips in hers, putting her hands on his shoulders. Just as he was acclimating to the shock, she pulled away. Steve looked at her like he has never seen anyone so beautiful, and it’s true. From the apples of her cheeks to the red of her lips, all he wanted to do was stare at her and kiss her until all her lipstick is on his face and they're both messy, entangled. Fuck. He kept staring at her lips, mouth half open. Goddamn, he needed to thank Bucky. 

“Are you just going to stand there and look confused? God, do I have to do everything myself?” she said, hands on her hips. Steve suddenly picked himself up and leant down to kiss Peggy again. She molded herself against him, keeping her hands steady at the base of his neck. When he stopped, for all of two seconds, the door opened. Peggy quickly stepped back, giving Hayley and Bucky a warm smile. Steve tried to wipe off the stray lipstick with the back of his hand, but not before Bucky caught notice. 

“Hey, don’t let us be the ones to stop you,” Bucky said, giving Steve a knowing smile. 

“Actually, Hayley and I should be going by now,” Peggy said, picking up her purse from its spot on the table. “Thank you for everything, Steve. I had a lovely time.”

“Bet you did,” Bucky said, under his breath. Steve shot him a look as Peggy’s face turned absolutely red. She looked mortified, and Steve wanted to kill Bucky. Peggy walked up to Hayley and stood there waiting for her best friend to say goodbye. 

“Actually, Peggy, would you be up for going out Thursday?” Steve said, the words tumbling out. God, he was so _flustered_ even at the idea of her. 

Peggy’s head shot up. “Yes,” she said, after what Steve could sense was some careful deliberation. Steve’s face lit up and suddenly the thought of waiting three days to see her again was making him ache the slightest bit. 

“Meet me here at seven?”

“Yes,” she said, and the response now was almost instant. Bucky shot a look at Hayley, a half-smirk popping on his mouth. 

“Well look at us. Bringing these two together out of our sheer necessity to find someone to take care of your friend.”

Hayley giggled. “Look at us, indeed.”

Bucky pressed his lips to her quickly. “Call me whenever, okay?”

“Okay,” Hayley said, before linking arms with Peggy and walking out the front door. Both girls shot their respective dates a small wave and a last look over their shoulders. Once they left and Bucky closed the door behind them, Bucky leaned against the doorframe. 

“Who would’ve thought you’d be the one to find a girl tonight, huh? Good going. I’m turning in for the night. Hayley is a god damn _firecracker_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> still searchin' for a plot, still searchin' for a beta.


End file.
